Ria took her place in the stands, her jaw clenched as she watched the remaining students attempt their summons. The humiliation still burned in her chest, but she forced herself to observe. Maybe she could learn something that would help her understand where everything had gone wrong.
Student after student stepped into the array, their attempts yielding predictably mediocre results. Marcus Thorne, a nobleman's son from the Outer Rim territories, managed to pull forth a small, slug-like creature that oozed pale mucus and left acidic trails wherever it crawled. The thing was barely the size of a house cat, and it cowered against his leg like a frightened pet.
Next came Elena Sareth, daughter of a mining baron. Her creature was slightly more impressive—a crystalline spider about the size of a dinner plate, its quartz-like body refracting the chamber's light into prismatic patterns. It skittered around her feet in nervous circles, its movements creating tiny chiming sounds as its crystal legs tapped against the metal floor.
Kael Brennan, whose family controlled several agricultural worlds, summoned what appeared to be a living plant. The creature was roughly humanoid but composed entirely of writhing vines and thorny branches, with bioluminescent flowers that bloomed and died across its surface in constant cycles. It stood barely four feet tall and moved with the sluggish pace of growing vegetation.
The pattern continued—small, weak creatures from the easily accessible dimensions. A blob of living metal that could barely maintain its shape. A shadow-creature the size of a child that flickered in and out of visibility. A crystal formation that hummed with musical tones but showed no signs of intelligence or significant power.
Ria watched it all with growing bitterness. These were the kinds of creatures she should have summoned—safe, predictable, weak. Instead, she'd gambled everything on diving deeper than anyone before her, and for what? To become a laughingstock.
Then Prince Aurelius Lightbearer stepped into the array.
The heir to the Empire of Light carried himself with the natural confidence of someone born to rule entire star systems. His golden hair caught the chamber's illumination, and his ceremonial armor was crafted from materials that seemed to generate their own soft radiance. Where other students had shown nervousness or fear, Aurelius appeared completely at ease.
"Beginning dimensional breach for Prince Aurelius," announced the technician.
The array charged with its familiar hum. Aurelius stood in perfect meditation posture, his will extending outward with the kind of disciplined control that came from years of training under the Empire's finest masters.
The dimensional barriers collapsed, and Aurelius's consciousness dove into the layered realities beyond. But unlike Ria's desperate plunge into the deepest depths of dimensions, the Prince moved with purpose and precision. He ascended to an exact point he was looking for.
When his creature materialized in the chamber, the entire observation deck fell silent.
She was breathtaking.
The being stood nearly seven feet tall, her form clearly humanoid but composed entirely of living light. Not the harsh, electrical brightness of artificial illumination, but something warm and pure. Her features were impossibly detailed despite being formed from pure radiance—high cheekbones, full lips, eyes that contained intelligence. Wings of pure luminescence spread from her shoulders, their feathers each a perfect construct of condensed light that shifted through subtle spectrums of gold and silver. When she moved, it was with with perfect grace.
The angel—for that was clearly what she was, turned her gaze toward Prince Aurelius and inclined her head in a gesture of acknowledgment that somehow conveyed both respect and otherworldly dignity.
"Incredible," someone whispered from the observation deck. "He actually summoned a Seraph of the Light Dimension."
Ria felt her stomach twist with renewed shame and envy. This was what a real summoning looked like. This was the kind of power that she needed. The Prince had demonstrated not just strength of will, but the wisdom to know exactly how deep to dive and the skill to bind a creature of genuine power.
Compared to this magnificent display of power and control, her accidental retrieval of a half-digested human seemed even more pathetic. While Prince Aurelius now commanded a being of celestial light, she was bound to a broken, vomit-covered slave who couldn't even survive in the dimension where she'd found him.
The Seraph spread her wings wider, and for a moment, the entire chamber was bathed in warm, golden light that made everyone present feel a touch of the divine. It was beautiful, it was powerful, and it was everything Ria's summon was not.
As the demonstration concluded and Prince Aurelius walked from the chamber with his luminous companion floating gracefully beside him, Ria slumped in her seat, the full weight of her failure crushing down on her once again.
Ria trudged back to her dormitory quarters, her footsteps echoing hollowly in the crystalline corridors of the Keeper academy. The ancient walls, carved from living stone that pulsed with soft bioluminescence, had seemed welcoming just a week ago when she'd first arrived on Nexus Sanctum, the main world of the Keepers. Now they felt like a prison closing in around her.
She'd only been here seven days, but in that short time, she'd managed to forge tentative friendships with several other students. Lydia Korren, the sharp-tongued daughter of a starship magnate, had bonded with her over their shared disdain for political marriages. Marcus Thorne had sought her out after watching her demolish a training automaton with her bare hands, clearly impressed by her Calguardian strength. Even quiet Elena Sareth had started joining them for meals, her shy demeanor gradually warming under Ria's protective influence.
But now, as she passed other students in the hallways, she might as well have been invisible. Conversations stopped when she approached, only to resume in hushed whispers once she'd passed. Those who had laughed at her summoning wouldn't meet her eyes, while others stared with a mixture of pity and barely concealed amusement.
The worst part was seeing Lydia deliberately turn away when Ria entered the common area, suddenly finding something fascinating about the holographic star charts on the far wall. Marcus, who had been so eager to spar with her just yesterday, now studied his datapad with suspicious intensity whenever she came near.
She had fought so hard to get here. The tournament on Nexus Prime had been brutal—thousands of warriors from across the galaxy competing for just fifty spots in the Keepers' prestigious academy. She'd broken bones, endured pain that would have crippled lesser beings, and proved herself worthy of standing among the galaxy's elite defenders.
And for what? To become the academy's laughingstock? To be known as the girl who dove deeper than any student in recorded history only to fish out someone's lunch?
As she sealed the door to her quarters behind her, a terrible thought crept into her mind: would they even let her stay? The Keepers were an elite organization. They couldn't afford to waste resources on students who couldn't perform. What if her failure meant expulsion? What if she was sent back to her father's court in disgrace, to be married off to Chancellor Korrus's son as originally planned?
The thought made her feel physically ill.
That night, sleep eluded her like a fleeing enemy. She tossed and turned on her sleeping pad, her mind churning with anxiety and regret. Tomorrow would bring the first day of actual classes, where each student would be expected to summon their bonded creature and begin learning to channel its dimensional energy.
The creatures weren't just pets or weapons—they were living links to their home dimensions, conduits that allowed their masters to wield powers from across the spectrum of reality. A warrior bonded to a creature of living metal could reshape weapons and armor at will. A scholar linked to a being of pure energy could manipulate the fundamental forces of physics. The stronger the creature, the more powerful the anchor it provided, and the greater the abilities it could channel.
They were also meant to be lifelong companions. She'd heard stories of Keepers who had served alongside their bonded creatures for centuries, their minds so intertwined that they could communicate without words, fight as one entity, and share experiences across the dimensional divide.
Her mind kept flashing back to the young man's face—the terror in his eyes, the desperation in his voice as he'd begged for help. She hadn't meant to kick him that hard. It was just... he was so fragile, so breakable compared to what she was used to. Her Calguardian strength, which had served her so well in combat, had turned a moment of frustrated anger into something far worse.
"Please, I'm human! I'm from Earth! I don't understand what's happening to me!"
The memory of his words made her stomach twist with guilt. He'd been genuinely terrified, completely lost, and her response had been to break his ribs and send him back to whatever hell she'd pulled him from. Even if he had ruined her plans, even if his presence had destroyed her one chance at freedom, he hadn't deserved that.
But what was done was done. By the time exhaustion finally claimed her, she'd convinced herself that there was no point in dwelling on regrets. She had to focus on salvaging what remained of her future.
Morning came too soon, announced by the academy's harmonic chimes that resonated through the stone buildings. Ria dressed in her training robes—simple gray garments that marked her as a first-year student—and made her way to the designated training grounds.
The area was a vast amphitheater carved into the mountainside, its terraced levels providing space for hundreds of students to practice their skills simultaneously. Ancient symbols covered every surface, their meanings lost to time but their power still palpable.
The fifty students of her class—the victors of the Nexus Prime tournament—gathered in the center ring, their nervous energy almost visible in the morning air. Above them, on raised platforms, stood the instructors who would guide their development over the coming years.
Master Thane stepped forward, his bonded creature—that being of pure light she'd admired during the summoning ceremony—flickering in and out of visibility beside him. When he spoke, his voice carried clearly across the amphitheater without need for amplification.
"Welcome, Initiates, to your first day as Keepers-in-training. Today begins your true education in the arts that have protected this galaxy for over ten thousand years."
He gestured broadly, encompassing the entire academy complex that spread across the mountain range around them. "The Keepers were founded in the aftermath of the Great Dimensional War, when creatures from the deepest layers of reality nearly succeeded in consuming our entire dimensional plane. Our predecessors discovered that the only way to fight beings of such power was to bind creatures of equal strength to our will, turning the enemy's own weapons against them."
The history lesson continued, but Ria found her attention drifting. She knew the stories already—how the ancient Keepers had stood as the bulwark against invasion, using enslaved dimensional creatures to maintain the barriers between realities. How they had sacrificed everything to keep the galaxy safe from horrors beyond imagination.
"The creatures you have bonded are not merely tools," Master Thane continued, his gaze sweeping across the assembled students. "They are your partners in this sacred duty, living extensions of your will and gateways to powers beyond normal comprehension. Through them, you will learn to channel the fundamental forces of creation itself."
He paused, his eyes finding each student in turn. "Now. Summon your creatures. I will walk among you and offer guidance based on what I observe."
Around the amphitheater, students began the process of calling forth their bonded beings. The air shimmered with dimensional energy as creatures materialized one by one—Marcus's acidic slug, Elena's crystal spider, Prince Aurelius's magnificent Seraph.
Ria stood frozen in the center of it all, her hands trembling slightly as she realized what she would have to do. She would have to summon him again—that broken, terrified human who had accidentally ruined everything. She would have to bring him back to this place where he'd been humiliated and hurt, just so her instructors could inspect him like a piece of defective equipment.
The guilt that had been gnawing at her all night suddenly felt overwhelming. But she had no choice. Failure to comply would mean certain expulsion, and despite everything, she wasn't ready to give up on her dreams just yet.
With trembling hands, she began to focus her will, preparing to call forth the most pathetic creature ever bonded by a Keeper student.